by C. W. Saari
“I went to the doctor today,” Lillian said, still standing. “She diagnosed me with a problem.”
Felix waited, looking slightly impatient.
“I have a sexually transmitted disease,” Lillian said.
She let the words sink in for a moment, but Felix showed no response.
“The only way I could have gotten it is from you.” She said this in a matter-of-fact tone without raising her voice. She was surprised how she had controlled her emotions.
Felix clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, but still said nothing.
“So, who have you been seeing? Who have you been having sex with?”
“I haven’t been having an affair, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Who have you been fucking? That’s what I’m asking. You got infected from someone and I want to know who!”
“Okay,” Felix said. “Okay,” he said again.
Lillian waited for him to speak. Felix put his feet on the floor and leaned forward, hanging his head like a young boy caught cheating by his teacher. “I’ve been with some women in Amsterdam. I don’t even know their names.”
“You slept with prostitutes? You paid for sex? Answer me!”
“I paid a prostitute in the red light district. The other two were women I picked up in the hotel bar. One-night stands. They didn’t mean anything to me.”
“Goddamn you, Felix. Obviously our marriage vows didn’t mean anything to you either,” Lillian said quickly, even as the thought of Andre entered her mind. She took a deep breath.
Felix asked, “So, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to get a blood test tomorrow. And I want you to make sure your doctor tests you for all sexually transmitted diseases.”
“I don’t know if I can get an appointment that soon.”
“Oh, you can get an appointment. Use some of your high-level connections if you have to. Or go to a public health clinic. I don’t care where you go. Just get it handled tomorrow and get the results.”
“So, what is it that you have?” Felix asked.
“We’ll discuss it after we discuss your lab results. And I don’t have anything else to say to you tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Lillian left the living room, walked into the den, and turned on her computer. While she waited, she breathed in and out deeply four or five times. It took another minute for her heart to quit pounding so hard. She logged onto the Internet and from memory entered an e-mail address and typed in her password. There was one message. It read: “Greetings from center court. Everything is going well here in Moscow. I’ll be leaving for Washington this week. I have a lot to do when I arrive. I am anxious for a personal tour. Can you fit me in? If you have a new number, please send it to me or e-mail it later. Andre.”
After reading the message for the third time, Lillian put her finger on the delete key and pressed. If only her problem could be eliminated so quickly.
The following morning, Felix went to his doctor for a blood test. The results were positive for HIV. He returned to the apartment a devastated man and shared the results with Lillian.
“It’s HIV,” Felix said.
Lillian had nothing to say.
Bannister called Adam Kush as soon as the FBI briefing was over.
“How’d your meeting go?”
“Fine, no problems on this end. The president authorized the withdrawal and use of the five million. I was planning on having the money delivered here next Wednesday afternoon. I’ll have to hire some armed guards to babysit the dough. I was thinking, though, you don’t suppose this is all a setup to try and steal the money once it’s delivered to Global, do you?”
“No, but it’s smart to think of all the angles. There are too many unknowns for someone to try and rip off the money from your headquarters. Does Robin have the ad ready for the newspaper?”
“Everything’s all set. When you get back from the newspaper, how about briefing me on the Bureau’s plan for next week?”
“Sure thing.”
Driving over to Global Waters, Bannister thought of Robin. He wondered how a woman could totally captivate his thoughts. Even with the constant underlying worry he had been feeling ever since Cal had gone missing, he kept thinking about her. And he was less concerned about the seriousness of the ricin threat than he was pleased for the opportunity it gave him to see her again.
What made one person attracted to another? The first two years after Erin died, he hadn’t dated. It wasn’t because of grief. And it wasn’t that he didn’t meet plenty of attractive women. But once he’d start talking to a woman, he inevitably found himself comparing her to Erin. It wasn’t fair to the woman, and maybe not even to him. He had his share of dates and always tried to act like the perfect computer match, but somehow when he smiled it seemed forced. He never led any of them on, and he would attempt to explain that it wasn’t anything to do with them. He didn’t know if they completely bought his explanation, but at least he tried.
Robin was different. She was the first woman since Erin who was able to hold his attention. Being around Robin gave him an inner calm and a feeling of excitement at the same time.
He called her cell phone. When she answered, her mellow voice and inflection made the words she spoke sound like she was genuinely interested in talking with him. She agreed to meet him at Global’s front entrance.
Two minutes later, Bannister swung the car into the turnaround next to the fountain. Robin breezed out of the building. He barely had time to stop and walk around to open the passenger door for her.”
“Ah, you’re a gentleman,” she smiled. As she stepped into the car, her hair brushed past his face, and he caught the subtle scent of her perfume, an air of fresh citrus.
“It’s my pleasure. At the Academy, your male classmates will have mixed reactions. Like when you’re leaving the gun vault and heading to the firing ranges, some guys might open the door for you just because you’re a woman. Others will step right in front of you and make you catch the door yourself because they don’t want to treat you differently than any other trainee.”
“Well, I’ll just have to make a mental note of that—and be sure to thank those who hold the door.”
It was a ten-minute ride to the newspaper. Downtown Atlanta was like most big cities; finding a parking space was always a problem. Luckily, a van was pulling out of a spot on Forsyth Street as Bannister turned the corner.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s circulation department was two doors down. Robin handled the placement of the ad, and Bannister was impressed when she asked to speak to the classifieds’ supervisor. Neither of them wanted to risk the ad not getting into the Sunday edition. She arranged for the proof of the ad to be faxed to her at Global to make sure there weren’t any typos. They exited the newspaper’s office, and Bannister called Stu to let him know the ad was placed and that he was returning to Global Waters to brief Adam Kush on their game plan.
“Have you ever worked this type of case before?” Robin asked when they were back in the car.
“Not exactly. I’ve never seen one which involved a biological poison. And the amount of money involved is large. I once had to stake out a drop site in a cornfield in Ohio in the middle of winter. My partner and I lay on the frozen ground among dead corn stalks for six hours, waiting for a subject to retrieve a garbage bag with two hundred fifty thousand dollars.”
“Did he show up?”
“Yeah. An hour or two after daylight we noticed a car drive past the field twice. When we spotted the car the third time, a guy stopped and ran about thirty yards into the field to grab the bag. We were to the side about twenty yards away. We both jumped up and pointed our M-16 rifles at him. We scared the hell out of him. Did I mention we were wearing all white Arctic winter gear, gloves, and boots? We would have scared anybody.”
“Did the guy have a record?”
“No. He was only nineteen. He just stood still like he was in shock. He
wet his pants. The guys who had to take him to booking were pissed off about that, no pun intended.”
Robin smiled. “I have a feeling our subjects are older.”
“I agree, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not. We’re seeing criminals today who are smarter, younger, and more dangerous. And they’re all interested in making money the new-fashioned way—stealing it.”
When they got back to Global Waters, the receptionist said Adam Kush had left a message for them to go directly to the executive dining room to meet him.
Kush came in as they entered.
“If you don’t mind,” Kush said. “Let’s eat and brief at the same time. Help yourself to the buffet.”
Bannister welcomed the chance to satisfy his appetite, so he selected a few beef medallions, some sautéed potatoes, and four spears of grilled asparagus. He grabbed a piece of cheesecake surrounded by plump strawberries. He had to admit this was a pleasant break from the junk food of yesterday. But it seemed wrong to enjoy good food when he didn’t know where Cal was, or what he was eating. If he was eating.
“So, are you ready for next week?” Kush asked.
“We are. Let me outline what I’ve set up. Two of our tech guys will make installations in the money as well as in the canvas bag containing it.”
“What kind of installations?” Kush asked, taking a sip of water.
“Global positioning system, GPS trackers. These are state-of-the-art, and we don’t have to worry about a power supply or antenna. They’re about the size of quarters. We’ll put one inside a currency bundle and the other in the liner of the canvas bag. We’ll also have a motion sensor in the bag, and that will let us know if the bag is moving and to send a signal to activate the GPS tokens.”
“And you’ll be able to track the bag anywhere?” Kush asked.
“We have about a five-mile range and our plane will handle that. The driver of the van will be one of our agents. The cell phone, with the number you put in the advertisement, will also have a GPS tracker in it, in addition to a microphone and camera. The van will have an infrared light, which will look like a spotlight from the air. We’re also installing a kill switch in the van. Like you mentioned earlier, if someone’s going to skip the money drop and just try and carjack the van, the engine will stop.”
Robin got up to get some coffee from a side bar and brought the pot over to fill their cups. “Have you thought about what happens if this thing drags on into the night?” she asked.
“We’re good to go for at least thirty-six hours,” Bannister said. “We have ground surveillance units, including foot teams, aerial coverage, and an arrest team. We have a modified plan if there’s heavy rain or fog. Adam, when you requested the money, did they provide the serial numbers?”
“Yes. They’re not all sequential, but we have all the numbers,” Kush said.
“One of our evidence recovery team members will also come here next week with our tech guys to take photos.”
“Has the Bureau made any notifications on the international level concerning the ricin?” Robin asked. She plucked a strawberry from Bannister’s plate and put it in her mouth. Her eyes were watching him.
For a moment he struggled to regain his focus. “The FBI, CIA, and other intelligence agencies are mining all their databases for any ricin connection,” he said. “So far, there’s nothing. To be honest, I don’t think there are any operatives overseas. But we have to consider that contingency just as you have with your product recall plan.”
“I agree with you, but God help us if someone poisons our water,” Kush said.
Robin answered her cell phone. “Adam, the van is ready in the basement.” She stood and pushed her chair in. Kush and Bannister stood, too.
“Thanks,” said Kush. “Your agents can take it today and put your gizmos in it.”
“I’ll send Ford Campbell over to retrieve it since he’s going to be driving it next week. I’d also like him to be totally briefed by your operations and dispatch-people.”
“No problem. I’ve arranged for him to be given a uniform and ID badge. Unless you say otherwise, I’d suggest he go through the half-day orientation program we have for our new drivers. Just in case he’s asked questions about Global deliveries or routes, I want him to be able to furnish an educated answer.”
“Right.” Bannister picked up his notebook and started walking out of the office. He thought of something else he wanted to say, and turned to speak, not realizing Robin was right behind him. She almost tripped into him. He had just enough time to catch her by the arms.
“I caught you just in time,” he murmured.
“You caught me,” she said with a smile that made him melt. “Just in time.”
“It might be a while before I see you again.”
“Duty first,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “But I haven’t forgotten about that dinner you promised me. If I have to report to the Academy before our date, I’m going to make you come up to Washington to take me out.”
The FBI’s inspection team from Washington was due to arrive in Atlanta in two weeks for their triennial turn-the-office-upside-down inspection. The message from the team of three inspectors and their twenty-six assistants was, “We’re just coming to Atlanta to help you out.” The best thing an agent could do during those two weeks would be to stay as far away from the office as possible. Hopefully, the Global Waters extortion case would be resolved by the time the inspection team arrived.
On Friday morning, the operational team reviewed next week’s plan. Everything was in order. Global’s van, with its hidden modifications, sat in the Bureau’s garage, ready to be ferried over to Global next Thursday morning. Ford Campbell and a SWAT agent, who was to be riding in the back of the van, had been briefed by Global. Campbell had also been fitted with a uniform. The tech guys showed him how to operate the special cell phone and the kill switch on the van.
As the clock hit five, a stream of FBI support personnel headed for the elevators and the start of their weekend. Bannister called Adam Kush and went over details for the umpteenth time. They were now in a waiting game. Bannister went to the breakroom for a soda and had just popped the tab and sat back down at his desk when an FBI lab supervisor called with some preliminary findings. The supervisor in the fingerprint section confirmed what he’d already guessed. She said latent fingerprints were detected on the envelope and letter; the prints on the envelope were identifiable with Robin and three FedEx employees. The only prints on the letter belonged to Robin. No help. Bannister had no sooner hung up when the phone rang again.
“This is Marty Bracken in Quantico. I’m with Behavioral Sciences.”
“How you doin’?” Bannister had never met Bracken but recognized his name. “I appreciate the fast response. Were you guys able to come up with anything?”
“We’ve got a few ideas that might help. I guess this thing’s going down next week.”
“Right.”
“This is only preliminary, you understand. But we ran the wording of the note against the known extortion letter file and also plugged it into a new computer program that uses artificial intelligence. For six years we’ve been analyzing the behavior of offenders identified with weapons of mass destruction threats. The artificial intelligence is new. Since it’s still in its early stages, you should treat the information as educated hunches. You’ll get this in an official communication later, but I thought you’d want to take a few notes now. You ready to copy?”
“Fire away.”
“As you probably anticipated, there were no matches from the known extortion file. However, the AI program spit out a summary of your subject’s possible traits. There is a high probability the writer of the letter is a college graduate; he’s male, Caucasian, and has probably lived close to downtown Atlanta for three or more years. He’s most likely between the ages of twenty-nine to forty. The subject has visions of grandeur, feels a sense of entitlement, does not respond well to criticism, does not work well with others, and
does not believe in showing kindness or consideration toward others.”
“How the hell can your computer figure all that out from a two-page letter?” Bannister asked.
“Look, I don’t know. This artificial intelligence thing’s experimental. That’s why I said treat the information for lead purposes. Maybe none of the information is ident with your subject. Maybe it’s right on. Two other things: Your subject may have had one or more unstable relationships in the past year or two and is interested in travel and adventure.”
“I’ll be really curious to see how much of that information pans out.”
“So will we. If you end up catching this guy, we’d like you to fill out one of our forms so the computer can crunch your findings.”
“Thanks. You’ve given us ten times more than we had before your call.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
Bannister was still thinking about the subject’s profile when Robin called.
“Hello, Ty, hope I’m not interrupting you.”
“No, I was just thinking about our case.”
“Well, I was thinking about you. What I mean is, I’m running in a ten kilometer race tomorrow morning in Buckhead. I know it’s kind of late notice, but would you be interested in running it and maybe getting a cold drink afterward?”
For a few seconds his mind shifted to Cal Williamson. The last time Bannister had done a six-mile run was with Cal during one of their early morning workouts three weeks ago.
“Are you there?” Robin asked.
“Sorry. Yeah, that sounds like a possibility. What time, and where is the start?”
“Race time is eight, and it begins and finishes at Phipps Plaza.”
“I have a proposition for you. If I agree to do the run with you, you’ll have to join me for breakfast—at my place. It’s right near there. I’ll do the cooking. What do you say?”
“Okay, as long as you’re not trying to get out of taking me to dinner.” Bannister listened to her laugh. “How about we meet at the race registration table about fifteen minutes before the start?”